Feliciano Vargas, (Hopeful) Ambassador to Italy
by graysam
Summary: Feliciano Vargas was the artistic kid in High School. Need someone to design the new background for the play? Having a bake sale? Feliciano does stuff like that in his sleep. Too bad Felciano's majoring in Pre-Law. As the pressure grows on Feliciano to peruse a career in art instead, his only support comes from Ludwig, a man who loves dogs as much as he hates Politics. College!AU
1. Chapter 1

Lovino is complaining to Feliciano about his major. Terrible right?

…

_Right_?

Here, let's elaborate a little bit, so you can get the full idea.

Feliciano Vargas was _the_ artistic kid in High School. You know the type: someone who was so creative everyone simply incorporated him into their art plans. Need someone to design the new background for the play? Get Feliciano, he does stuff like that in his sleep. Need a sign to hang over the entrance of the school? Where's Feliciano, he can paint letters straight without a ruler.

Feliciano was also someone who was assumed to excel at all things that didn't involve academics. Having a bake sale? Feliciano knows about ten Italian recipes that he can give you, or give him a week and he'll bake all of them for you. Oh, the lead singer of the chorus got sick? Feliciano knows that song, get him on that. Feliciano was so earnest in his talents, so simply _good_, that people couldn't even become jealous of his skills.

Indeed, everyone at Feliciano's small, private high school expected Feliciano to become some world renowned artist, or set designer, or singer. Lovino, Feliciano's older brother, constantly gave Feliciano brochures of art colleges he deemed acceptable. The guidance counselors talked to Feliciano about internship opportunities to help out art gallery owners. Feliciano's grandpa bought Feliciano brand new paints, sketchbooks, and an easel for his senior year graduation.

What most people didn't know, or really pay attention to, was the fact that Feliciano actually received pretty decent grades. This is the important thing to remember.

Feliciano applied for a couple of Arts colleges, and the same college Lovino was attending. Lovino thought this a little strange, as Hetalia University didn't have the best art program, but he didn't think too much of it.

Feliciano's friends and family were a bit more confused when Feliciano was overjoyed at being accepted in to Hetalia University.

They were more concerned when Feliciano bought his school books. Instead of 'Art History,' 'Art Theory,' or other such titles, Feliciano's books held much more worrying monikers. These included: 'Foreign Affairs in Regards to the US,' 'An Introduction to Legal Reasoning,' and most troublingly of all, 'Law 101.' The friends and family, not the brightest bunch, persisted on, buying Feliciano more paints and baking pans.

It wasn't until the end of summer break when Lovino walked in on Feliciano watching the early morning news on television when he feared he had mistaken what Feliciano was going to school for. He casually sat down next to Feliciano on the couch, watching Feliciano stare at the TV screen, enraptured.

"Hey, Feli, I never did ask, but what exactly _are_ you majoring in?" Lovino asked, taking a sip from his coffee cup.

Feliciano smiled and looked over, the physical manifestation of happiness. "Pre-Law, you know that."

Lovino spat coffee all over the living room.

For the next few days before classes started at Hetalia University, Feliciano was very confused as to why his friends and family were suddenly so insistent that he change his major. After all, they had known about his major since he bought his books, Hetalia University was one of the best Law schools in the country, and he had straight up told them he was going into Pre-Law. Twice. Feliciano was left struggling to explain that yes, he was sure he picked the right major, and no, he was not going to transfer schools at the last second. Feliciano departed for college in a haze of confusion on both parties' side.

Unfortunately, Feliciano's personal money he had saved had only stretched so far that summer. It had been between a car or college books, so Feliciano was forced to hitch a ride with his brother to Hetalia University.

This is where we left off. Lovino is complaining to Feliciano about his choice in his major.

"I don't understand," Feliciano exclaimed, cutting of Lovino's rant and throwing his hands in the air, "I told you I was going into Pre-Law! Why are you making such a big deal about it?"

"I'm making a big deal about this because you could paint the next Mona Lisa!" Lovino snapped. "Except, you know, with eyebrows." Lovino rolled down his window to scream at a passing driver in Italian before turning back to Feliciano. "I just want you to be happy doing what you're doing. Is going into law really going to do that?"

Feliciano understood and sighed affectionately, reaching over to pat Lovino on the head. "Thank you for being worried! I love you, too!"

"Fuck off," Lovino snapped, nearly swerving off the road to bat away Feliciano's hands. "We're almost there, so I'll drop you at the Admission's office and go throw my shit by the curb then swing back to get you, okay?"

Feliciano hummed, leaning back in the passenger seat as if he was looking up at Hetalia's buildings. It took another fifteen minutes to arrive, but when they did, Feliciano was already in the position to see the architecture.

Hetalia University had a gorgeous campus. Huge trees dotted the land, and it would almost seem like a park if not for the giant, ancient buildings that classes were taught in. The dorm rooms were slightly more modern, but the school compensated by having even more trees surrounding the living space. Feliciano knew instantly he would have to draw this place.

Lovino commented dryly on the buildings as they drove by them. "That building, there, gets so fucking cold in the winter you have to wear gloves. _That_ one leaks when it rains, and so the professor puts buckets all over the tabletops and then you can't put your notebook down to take notes. That one, with the broken window? someone always throws a brick through the glass every time it gets fixed."

Feliciano nodded and half-listened, still admiring the landscape. He wasn't too worried about Lovino's complaining, because his older brother wouldn't have come back for a second year if he hadn't like the college. Lovino's old, tired Volvo pulled into the Admission Office's parking lot, and Feliciano was opening the car door when Lovino pressed on the gas. The car zoomed forward, and they left the parking lot as fast as they had arrived.

Feliciano managed to swing the door shut before turning to his brother and pouting, "Hey, why did you leave? I have to get my dorm room—"

Lovino didn't answer and kept driving, eyes glued to the road, hands gripping the steering wheel. Finally, after he threw Feliciano a peculiar look, he explained, "The creepy ass gardener was there. You and I don't associate with the creepy ass gardener."

Feliciano frowned. "Who?"

Lovino shook his head and hit the brakes hard, pulling up to his dorm building. Feliciano saw three people idly gathered around a car parked in front of Lovino's, with a forth beginning to haul bags out of the back of the car. Lovino had talked briefly about his friends at Hetalia, and Feliciano was interested to know who had thick enough skin to be friend with his brother. All Feliciano needed to be sure Lovino was friends with the group was the lazy wave his brother gave as he turned off the ignition. Feliciano jumped out of the car and ran up, imaginary tail wagging. He was a bit thrown when he saw all four were blond.

"Hi! I'm Feliciano!"

Lovino, not interested that Feliciano was trying to make friends, opened the car door and stepped out, yelling at Feliciano, "Hey, asshole! Help me get my stuff!"

A tall blond with gravity defying hair grinned at the brothers from the crouched position in the trunk of his car."No shit! Romano, is this your little brother you're always gloating about?"

Lovino grunted and walked around to the back of his car, unlocking the trunk before standing next to Feliciano. "Yes, this is Feliciano. Feli, this is Mathias," the blond who had spoken before hopped out of the trunk and bowed, "Tino," a shy boy smiled and waved, "Berwald," a scary, scary man inclined his head, "and Lukas, my roommate."

Feliciano grinned at everyone, waving enthusiastically. "Hey, everyone! I'm Feliciano, and I'm majoring in Pre-Law."

For some weird reason, Mathias burst out laughing, earning himself a sharp punch in the shoulder from Lukas. "Good luck with that, kid," he muttered through chortles.

Lovino rolled his eyes, scowling. "Yeah, that's what I said. Mathias, Feliciano needs to borrow your bike to ride to the Admission Office. The Gardener was hanging out there, and I didn't feel like getting molested."

Mathias raised an eyebrow. "You slept with the gardener before you left for the summer."

Feliciano tilted his head and looked over at Lovino for explanation. He had never heard this piece of information at the dinner table.

Lovino's eye twitched. "Bike, Mathias."

"I don't want to share my bike—" Lukas trotted away quietly, Feliciano noticed, "And you did sleep with him! You don't even deny it anymore."

"I didn't." Lovino said slowly, like he was talking to a slow child.

"Yes, yes you did!" Mathias turned to Tino, "Didn't he?"

Tino laughed, even though nothing was funny. His gaze shifted between Feliciano and Lovino, and he laughed again, blushing. "Feliciano, why did you decide to major in Pre-Law? Seems a little stuffy!"

Feliciano smiled, "Oh, I want to become an Ambassador to Italy." This 'Gardener' would have to be investigated at a different time.

Tino blinked, "Oh, wow, that's pretty interesting."

Lukas returned with a battered bike painted red and white and gave it to Feliciano. Mathias saw this and turned on Lukas, frowning. "Hey, that's my bike!"

Feliciano hopped on the bike and began to pedal away, deciding Lovino's friends were good people. Except for Mathias. And maybe Berwald. Berwald seemed like he'd seen some things. Tino acted like a good person, anyways.

Feliciano pedaled the way Lovino had driven, waving to people he didn't know and grinning. Feliciano was excited to start college, and he already had some friends. He laughed and closed his eyes, stretching his legs out and letting momentum carry him forward.

And then he ran over someone's foot.

Feliciano skidded on the breaks, trying to apologize and not crash his bike. A tall blond with slicked back hair was cursing in a foreign language, trying not to lose his balance or drop the giant box he was carrying. Feliciano managed to fall off the bike and scramble toward the man.

"Whoopsie! I'm so sorry!" Feliciano's arms had trouble deciding how best to help the man, and they uselessly hovered beside the box. "I wasn't looking where I was going!"

"Ja, I could tell."

"Oh wow that's a funny accent, huh? Here let me take the box so you can make sure your foot isn't broken!" Feliciano forcefully took the box from the man, groaning under the weight. "Oh, that's heavier than I expected. My name's Feliciano, what's yours?"

"Don't drop it. It has some, uh, gaming stuff in it. I'm Ludwig Beilschmidt." Feliciano couldn't see Ludwig's face over the mound of 'gaming stuff,' but he didn't sound happy.

"Oh, well I'm sorry I broke your foot, Ludwig! Can you take the box back? I'm about to drop it!" As soon as the box as out of Feliciano's hands, he skipped away, waving behind him at Ludwig. "I have to go find my dorm room! Bye, Ludwig! I'm sorry again for breaking your foot."

"Yeah, bye," Ludwig muttered and turned away.

Feliciano shrugged and picked up Mathias' bike, mounting it while running. He hoped that his roommate wasn't as grumpy as that Ludwig-guy.

Thankfully, it was just a regular American.

* * *

**Hetalia isn't mine.  
**

**Quick note: I'm hardcore USUK, so FrUK beware. :) Also: PruAus, and secret pairings. **

**I have a couple chapters of this written, so there should be a buffer where I'll update regularly. Please, please, PLEASE mention any mistakes you see, and critiques are welcome! **

**EDIT: Chapter Beta'd by the lovely **kheelwithit**. **


	2. Chapter 2

Ludwig wants to tell you two things about himself. He has even made a nifty little list for convenience.

1. Ludwig is a good person.

2. Sometimes, people make that good person hide in the very farthest reaches of Ludwig's mind.

As mentioned, people often make Ludwig a little angry. These people will be explained to you throughout Ludwig's day at college.

Ludwig began his day by waking up and thinking his brother set the dorm on fire. He jumped out of bed, hair in disarray, and ran into the kitchen, yelling in German. However, his good-for-nothing brother had accidentally let his good-for-nothing-except-gardening friend try to use the toaster.

The toaster, you see, didn't have a timer. So, even when a piece of bread was cooked to golden perfection on the '3' setting, the toaster didn't allow the bread to pop up. Ludwig's brother's friend didn't know this, so the last slice of bread he had put into the toaster was cooked to a piece of coal.

"Oh, hey, Ludwig," Antonio, the good-for-nothing-except-gardening friend, waved happily at Ludwig. "I seem to have let the toaster on for too long. I, ah, ruined your last piece of bread." He shrugged in a 'what can you do?' sort of way, and went off in search of more food.

Ludwig stared at the toaster, processing.

Finally, his brain clicked into gear, and he marched two yards into the living room, where his brother lay. Gilbert, an albino who was all too happy to relish inside out of the sun, was passed out on the couch. Gilbert had invited Antonio over to spend the night, and their evening spent drinking was evident. All over the living room. And couch. Just, really, empty alcohol bottles everywhere.

Gilbert was one of those people who made happy Ludwig go scuttling into the darkest parts of Ludwig's mind, hissing at the light.

"Get _up_ you lazy ass!" Ludwig shouted in German, kicking the couch.

"Five more minutes," Came the reply, muffled under an alcohol infused blanket.

"I've been at my college for a month and you still haven't found an apartment—or job—like you promised!" Ludwig pulled off the blanket, finding a half-naked Gilbert.

Gilbert cracked open one eye and looked at Ludwig. "Your point?"

Ludwig put his hands on his hips. "Instead of getting drunk with Antonio," he kicked the couch, "—get—" kick "—a—" kick "—_job_."

The door on the other side of the living room opened, and Roderich stepped out. He readjusted his glasses and looked slowly around the living room. His eyes swept right over Gilbert in his blue boxers with yellow polka-dots, barely registered Ludwig in his black boxers and tank-top, and instead fell on a small feathered patch on the carpet.

"Is that a bird?"

Ludwig whirled on Gilbert. "You let in a bird?"

"I let in a bird? Oh, shit," Gilbert laughed, "I did."

"Why would you let in a bird?" Roderich muttered, shaking his head.

"I didn't _mean_ to," Gilbert held his hands up defensively. "Hell, maybe the bird let _himself_ in."

Roderich hefted his book bag, firmly shut his bedroom door behind him, and strode across the living room. "I don't care what happened, but this mess better be cleaned out. It's practically a barn in this place." He then waltzed out of the dorm room, gently shutting the door behind him.

Antonio, still rummaging, called belatedly, "Hi, Roderich!"

Ludwig checked the clock and cursed, heading toward the bathroom. "Gilbert, clean!"

"I'm not a dog you k—" Ludwig slammed the bathroom door, massaging his temples.

Damn his free-loading brother. He didn't even think it was legal to have Gilbert in his dorm, but Ludwig had tried everything short of a pesticide treatment to rid himself of the albino. So, Gilbert stayed. (Gilbert actually didn't annoy Ludwig that much; he was helpful keeping the apartment clean when Ludwig was busy studying.) Ludwig only nagged Gilbert when he drank with his friends. Alcohol wasn't allowed on campus, and every time his older brother drank, he jeopardized Ludwig's enrollment at Hetalia.

Ludwig showered, shaved, dressed, gelled back his hair, and grabbed his reading glasses. When he stepped out of the bathroom, Antonio had left, but Gilbert was still on the couch. It had been half an hour.

"_Clean_!"

"Shut up, mom!"

Ludwig grabbed his backpack and left his dorm. His bad mood could practically be seen floating above him, a little storm cloud. Ludwig stomped down the stairs, left his building, and took a hard left.

It took five minutes of walking for Ludwig to realize he was being followed. He turned his head slightly and was surprised to see a dirty golden retriever trotting behind him, tail wagging. Ludwig sighed and turned around to face the dog.

"They don't allow dogs on campus," Ludwig muttered, looking around for a campus security guard among the throngs of students on their way to class. "You shouldn't be here."

The dog barked.

Ludwig sighed and tried to wave the dog away. "Go away, before you get caught and sent to the pound."

The dog barked, and its tongue lolled out of its mouth. Ludwig sighed and turned on his heel, continuing on his way to class. The golden retriever continued to follow him. Ludwig sighed and let the dog stop next to him.

"Are you going to come live with me too? Hm?" Ludwig murmured in German, wiggling his fingers at the dog, "Are you going to try and set the toaster on fire?"

Ludwig realized he was talking to a dog, blushed slightly, and moved on to class.

Ludwig reached his Foreign Affairs class, fifteen minutes early he was pleased to see, and took his seat third row from the front. The professor hadn't arrived yet, but a few students were milling around. Ludwig took out his homework and gazed down at it, worrying.

Ludwig was majoring in Pre-Law, but it just wasn't clicking. Ludwig could study all he wanted, but none of the subjects related to Law would make sense to Ludwig. Biology, Calculus, and Writing Seminar came like swimming to a fish, but Foreign Affairs, Law, and World History caused only migraines. But that wouldn't really bug Ludwig except…

"Everyone!"

Ludwig's eyes snapped toward the front of the class, along with the rest of the class.

"Ah, hi!" Feliciano smiled around the classroom from in front of the chalkboard, the brightest thing in the room. "Before Professor shows up, I wanted to let you all know that I'm starting a model UN! Since we're all in Foreign Affairs—here are the fliers!" Feliciano hefted the stack of papers in his arms.

... Except for Feliciano.

Feliciano excelled with such a frustrating ease at all the classes Ludwig struggled with. And it drove Ludwig crazy. He would bounce into class, take a couple of notes, hum to himself, then ask a question that flew over Ludwig's head and left him scrambling for his notes to reference. It seemed unfair, but Feliciano didn't even know he was one of the top students.

Feliciano was one of the other people that made happy Ludwig dig a hole, crawl in it, and cover himself with dirt. In… in Ludwig's head. These metaphors are getting confusing, sorry.

"Are you coming?"

Ludwig started, looking up at Feliciano, who had appeared in front of him.

"Excuse me?"

"To my club?" Feliciano smiled and handed Ludwig a flier. "I'm trying to get as many international students as I can, so we have a good mixing of opinions. You're the only German I know!"

Ludwig frowned down at the flier.

Model UN!

Run by: Feliciano Vargas!

Come gain experience and mix opinions on International Issues!

Bring your foreign friends!

! SNACKS ARE PROVIDED !

First meeting this Friday in the library!

Starts at 7!

Please come!

:)

"Uh…" Ludwig looked back up at Feliciano. How did anyone in their right mind allow _Feliciano_ to run a club?

"Please? At least come to the first meeting! It'll be really fun, and I'll order pizza and I'm baking this really yummy cake with homemade frosting, and we'll have a whole table of the library all to ourselves." Feliciano was staring at Ludwig, fists clenched and face determined. "And each person gets to pick their own Nation the first meeting, so…"

Ludwig held up his hand, grimacing. The prospect of meeting new people and discussing opinions seemed like a recipe for disaster. "Ah, I don't know. I'll have to study, and I think a paper is due—"

"The Foreign Affairs professor is giving extra credit for those who go~"

Ludwig felt his eye twitch and his face heat up slightly.

D… Did Feliciano _know_ that Ludwig was struggling in his Pre-Law classes?

The little storm cloud over Ludwig's head got a shade darker.

Feliciano leaned over and tapped the flier, smiling innocently. "Think about it, okay? I'll save you a seat!" He sauntered away, calling happily to his loud friend and batting away a paper airplane that almost flew into his eyes.

Ludwig's eyes were glued to the back of Feliciano's head, studying him as the class progressed. How did the man do it? He hardly even seemed to pay attention in class, but he was adept enough to head a model UN. Ludwig wondered how he compared. No, Feliciano must study with someone. Maybe it was that Asian man that Ludwig saw meet Feliciano last week after class…? Feliciano raised his hand.

"Why exactly does the Chinese trading policy include us when it would be more help to go to Ecuador for the…" And the question ascended in complexity from there. By the time Ludwig's brain checked back in, Feliciano finished, "… and make an embargo?"

Ludwig gritted his teeth, rifling through his notes till he found his outline on the Chinese Trade policy.

Now, it should be noted, Feliciano had absolutely no idea of Ludwig's Grade Point Average when it came to Foreign Affairs. It was honestly his last ditch attempt to attract Ludwig to his club. Feliciano had that same conversation with just about everyone he gave the flier to.

By the time class was over, Ludwig had calmed down, his mind forced to focus on taking notes instead of his frustrations. Finally, the Professor glanced up at the clock and released the class, hurrying up the center isle for his smoke break. Ludwig leaned back in his chair and stretched, happy the two-hour class was over.

Ludwig gathered his things and stood, nodding to a few of the students he recognized from ROTC. He walked out of the seminar room and was surprised to see the same Golden Retriever from earlier sleeping by the door. Ludwig looked around quickly, checking that none of the campus security guards were around and that the dog was safe, before heading back to his dorm room. He had a half hour break before Biology and he had to exchange his books.

Ludwig pulled his coat tighter around himself, dreading the rapidly approaching time when it became too cold for his outdoor runs, and he would have to move indoors to the treadmills on campus. Ludwig unlocked his dorm door and was pleased to see a dressed Gilbert picking up the mess from last night.

"Did you catch the bird?" Ludwig asked in German as he strode into his room, looking for his Biology text book and binder.

"I opened the window," Gilbert called. "It's a canary," he continued, "I don't think it'll do any harm. And you wanted me to clean!" He reminded, letting out an obnoxious laugh. There was a beat of silence, "And Mom's boyfriend called looking for you."

Ludwig and Gilbert shared a phone. Well, it was more like Gilbert shared Ludwig's phone, though it was Ludwig who couldn't remember the last time he had actually used his phone for anything other than calling his Mom. The last time Ludwig had commandeered his phone had been two weeks ago, and he had declined calls all class, messaging back that no, he wasn't Gilbert, please stop calling. It was always painfully awkward whenever Gilbert picked up a call intended for Ludwig, instead.

"What did he want?" Ludwig asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral as he exited his room.

Gilbert laughed again, louder and harsher than before. "I don't know. He flipped when he heard it was me."

"He's doing his best, you know that," Ludwig defended half-heartedly as he searched their small pantry for a snack. "You haven't exactly made it easy for him."

Gilbert didn't respond, but the sound of breaking glass as he threw a beer bottle into his trash bag was enough.

* * *

**Thanks for the first reviews!** Fleursdemoncoeur**, **Alya Spruce**, **Guest**, **mille**, and **queenofthefandms** thank you! Thanks to all the Followers, and the one Favorite. You guys rock.**

**As always, please mention any mistakes you see, and critiques are welcome!**

**EDIT: Beta'd by the** **amazing **kheelwithit**. **


	3. Chapter 3

A phone call always comes on Tuesday:

"Hello, Feli."

"Oh! Hi, Grandpa, how are you?"

"I'm fine, Feli. What I want to know is: how are you doing? Are you still in Pre-Law?"

"Uh, yes, I'm still in Pre-Law."

…

"Grandpa?"

"Feliciano, you're a very talented boy."

"Thank yo—"

"That being said, it disappoints me to no end to see you wasting your skills becoming a lawyer."

"But Grandpa, I _like_ Law, and I'm doing so well, and I'm still working on my art—"

"I'm paying a lot of money to send you to that school with your brother."

"I… I know."

"I think it's all well and good that you have this—this hobby, with Law, but I want to know when you're actually going to buckle down and work on your artistic career."

"In… In a couple of years, maybe. But I really like Law, Grandpa. I really do."

"I just don't want you doing this because you feel like you have to—to prove something."

"Grandpa, I'm not. Really. How is everything going at the restaurant?"

The rest is mundane chatter. The beginning is always the same.

.-.

Feliciano had settled into college and was trundling along happily. He had been there for little over a month, but Feliciano already had a good feeling about the rest of the year. He loved his classes—except for Calculus—and he loved the friends he had made so far. Feliciano was turning out to be a very good Pre-Law major.

Feliciano was supposed to be studying for a quiz that was tomorrow, but like most of the time, he was distracted by Alfred. The blond was throwing Twizzlers at Feliciano across the kitchen table, grinning from over his Biology book. Feliciano munched on the most recent projectile, eying Alfred nervously for the next one.

"You should study," Feliciano chirped, World History book poised to deflect the next candy.

Alfred smiled and shook his head. "Nah, only losers study," He threw another Twizzler, trying to reach around Feliciano's book so it would hit him.

Feliciano chuckled and stood up, shutting his World History book. "I think it's the other way around, but whatever you say! I'm going to visit my brother for a little bit, okay?" Feliciano gathered a couple other books for homework, and was almost out of the door when he turned back around, dawdling. "You're coming to the model UN, right?"

Alfred mumbled a reply around the ten Twizzlers he was munching on.

Feliciano turned one foot sideways, face warming up. "Come on, I told you I would let you be America if you showed up for the first meeting," he bribed. "Come onn." Feliciano brightened, "Oh, but I'm baking a cake!"

Now, _this_ caught Alfred's attention. In all Feliciano's time at college, he hadn't really put his baking skills to good use. Alfred had only tasted the tip of the proverbial iceberg when it came to the pancakes that Feliciano made for breakfast, but this new prospect was exciting. He casually leaned back in his chair, "What, ah, what kind of cake are we talking about?"

Feliciano smiled. "Chocolate, I think. I'll change each flavor with each meeting, so come to each one, okay?" Feliciano bounced out of the dorm, waving behind him in farewell.

Feliciano trotted through the dorm hall, waving at the people he recognized. Feliciano had been lucky enough to be placed in the same dorm as Lovino, and he made frequent visits to his older brother, walking around campus with Lovino when the older wasn't studying or working. Thinking of it now, Feliciano had only seen his brother once or twice the past two weeks. He stopped in front of his brother's dorm and knocked on the door, but was only met with Lukas' bland expression.

"Oh, hi, Lukas!" Feliciano greeted, "Is Lovino in there? I thought I could study with him, because he's usually studying anyways when he's not at work, so I thought he would be quieter than Alfred, who listens to music and eats really loud. Is he here?"

Lukas shook his head, a slight crease forming between his eyebrows. "Nope."

Feliciano nodded, "Good, good. Do you know where he is?"

"Nope. I don't actually keep track of where he wanders off to, because I couldn't care less. I assume he made a lunch date with someone. Try the café," Lukas said, slowly inching the door shut.

"Do you think he's with that Gardener you guys keep talking about?" Feliciano asked quickly.

Lukas paused and seemed to consider, hand reaching up to play with the little clip that kept his bangs out of his eyes. "That could be true. But I don't know where the Gardener takes him, so you're on your own." He shrugged, door edging a little closer to its frame.

"Oh, make sure you stop by the Model UN this Friday! Extra credit to those who attend, and I'm baking a cake," Feliciano smiled and riffled through his Foreign Affairs text book, pulling out one of the fliers he had stashed and handing it to Lukas.

Lukas' eyes held a glimmer of interest, and he nodded once at Feliciano. "As long as Mathias isn't coming, I guess. What kind of cake?" Feliciano opened his mouth, but Lukas cut back in, "Oh, no, it's fine, it's fine. I'll be there, go study." And the door finally slid shut.

Feliciano sighed, turning away from Lukas and Lovino's room. He walked down stairs and through the sitting area, looking for a familiar face. Most students had sprung for classes later in the day. Feliciano, who had been late signing up for classes, had been stuck with mostly early morning classes, and was left with almost no people to sit with on the weekdays. Kiku, the exchange student from Japan who Feliciano had befriended in Biology, was one of these people. Feliciano walked outside into the chilly, late-afternoon air, arms staring to ache with the weight of his textbooks.

Something barked.

Feliciano looked down to find a filthy golden retriever sitting at his feet. Feliciano grinned and maneuvered all his textbooks into one hand, leaning down to pat the dog on the head. Feliciano had thought dogs weren't allowed on campus, but he wasn't going to complain.

"Oh, what a good puppy!" Feliciano cooed, laughing when the dog licked his hand.

"Berlitz?"

Feliciano stood up, turning toward the voice. "Oh, no, I'm Felic—Ludwig! Hi!" Feliciano waved with his free hand before switching his arms holding his textbooks. "Is this your dog?"

Ludwig, who had appeared from the right side of Feliciano's dorm, stepped off the grass and onto the sidewalk but didn't venture any closer. "No, he's not mine."

Feliciano nodded and reached over to pet the dog again. "He just ran up to me, and when you came over here and said—is that what you call him? Berl…?"

"Berlitz, no. I don't call him anything."

Feliciano laughed as Berlitz flopped on his side and offered his belly to Feliciano, who happily obliged the dog. "Well, that's what I' going to call him, because you saw him first, and he probably already thinks he's Berlitz! Where do you think he came from? I hope his owner didn't bring him here and then leave."

Ludwig's shoulders rose in a slight shrug. "I don't know." Feliciano saw Ludwig shift from foot to foot from where he was crouching.

"Personally, I've always been more of a cat person, but I love dogs just as much." Feliciano said, finally growing tired of his books and throwing them on the ground, scratching Berlitz with both hands now.

"Are you going to study with someone?" Ludwig asked loudly.

Feliciano looked up, concerned that Ludwig was angry with him. The blond was staring intently at Feliciano's Foreign Affairs textbook, looking like he was in pain. Feliciano brushed it off, shaking his head and smiling. "No, all of my friends are busy. Oh! Ludwig, I've had a wonderful idea. I could study with you, couldn't I? I'm studying for that quiz tomorrow, and are you good at Calculus, because I can't figure out the lesson from yesterday?"

Ludwig nodded slowly. "Yes, I'm good at Calculus. And I'm not busy so—"

"Excellent!" Feliciano cheered in Italian, collecting his books and standing up. "Here," He continued in English, "we'll just study in my dorm. Come, Berlitz!" Feliciano opened the door of his dorm, ushered the golden retriever in, and waited for Ludwig.

"Dogs aren't allowed inside campus buildings," Ludwig said, refusing to enter the dorm.

Feliciano smiled, waggling his eyebrows, "I'm not gonna tell anyone. Besides, everyone is gone! Come on."

Ludwig sighed and reluctantly followed Feliciano inside. Feliciano settled in one of the comfortable reading chairs that his dorm provided, throwing his heavy books on the side table. Ludwig took the nearby loveseat, taking his backpack off and pulling out his own Foreign Affairs book. Berlitz curled up by the heating vent where a fireplace would have been more appropriate.

When Feliciano had first seen his dorm's sitting room, he was immensely disappointed. The rest of the school tried so hard to maintain some of its ancient charm, that when Feliciano had stepped inside the dorm common area, he wondered if the school had run out of funding when it came to furnishing this room.

However, Feliciano had grown to love the sitting area. The reading chairs and loveseats were surprisingly comfy, despite being from Walmart and assembled half wrong. The vending machine, while not gourmet, was always fully stocked with cheap food for hungry studiers. The broken Pac-Man arcade game was being fixed by a Computer Science major that the college was paying. The ancient TV that sat in the corner had a working DVD player, a couple of communal gaming consoles, and always broadcasted the important sports games.

Feliciano had found the sitting area was one of his favorite places to study, and he loved bringing friends there to study or to talk. When Kiku, who lived off campus, had first visited, he had disliked the place, too. Feliciano was still working on that opinion.

Ludwig and Feliciano studied in silence for a while, with the soft snores from Berlitz being the only noise besides the rustling of book pages. Feliciano noticed that Ludwig sat very straight, with both feet placed squarely on the ground, while Feliciano studied with his legs crossed.

Surprisingly, it was Ludwig who broke the quiet.

"Feliciano?"

"Hm?" Feliciano looked up from his book, blinking. He had accidentally started to doze, and was struggling to remember if Ludwig had asked him an actual question, or just his name. "What is it, Ludwig?"

"What's a… MNNA?" Ludwig asked, taking off his reading glasses and massaging his eyes. "I've kept seeing the word and I can't remember what's referring to."

"Oh, that's a major non-NATO ally." Feliciano smiled, returning to his reading, intent on not falling asleep this time. He looked up when he felt that Ludwig's attention was still on him. Feliciano tilted his head. "Are you okay?"

Ludwig's eye widened slightly and he looked back down at his textbook. "How are you so good at this?" He asked, gripping the book in his lap tightly.

Feliciano laughed, leaning back in his chair and shutting his textbook. "You know, you're not the only person who's asked me that. I don't know what to tell you, I mean… I just like politics." He smiled at Ludwig when he looked up. "No one ever asked me that in high school, you know."

Ludwig's posture relaxed slightly when he shut his textbook and he exchanged it for his Calculus book. "Oh? Why's that?"

Feliciano sighed and rested cheek in the palm of his hand, leaning against the arm rest. "I think they all expected me to be an artist. Because I was _good_ at art, you know? They never asked my why."

"Why didn't you become an artist, then? If you were good?"

Feliciano smiled, remembering the first day of World History at high school. When he had left, he had never looked forward toward tomorrow's class more fervently. "I didn't like art. Not like I liked History or Government."

Ludwig opened his Calculus book, flipping through the pages and searching for the previous day's lesson. "Seems like it would be smarter to do something you were talented at," he said, glancing up at Feliciano pointedly.

"Maybe, but I've always done what makes me happy, so…" Feliciano spread his arms, grinning, "Here I am!" Feliciano pulled out his Calculus homework, looking over at Ludwig. "How do you do question nine? Because I can't figure it out at all!"

* * *

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**As always, critiques are welcome. **


	4. Chapter 4

"Tonight's the big night! Finally! Tonight's the night!" Feliciano sang these words as he frosted the cake he had baked. He had waited impatiently all week for Friday, his first club meeting, and now it was almost time. "Alfred, did the pizz—"

"Call me AMERICA!" Alfred kicked the kitchen door open, arms full of freshly delivered pizza boxes.

"It didn't cost more than twenty-five, did it?" Feliciano asked, finishing frosting the cake and taking the pizza boxes from Alfred and setting them on the counter. He went to the fridge and fished out the two-liter bottles of Coke and placed them next to the pizza.

"Naw, here's the change," Alfred dug through his pockets till he found said change, handing it to Feliciano. He hovered near the pizza, stomach growling. "When can I have a slice?" He whined, hands hovering over the box. "It'll be all cold by the time we get to the library."

Feliciano slapped away Alfred's hands, sticking out his tongue. "The library has a microwave. Here, take the pizza, plates, and the Coke down to the library, and I'll grab the little placards and the cake. You can have a slice when you get there, okay?" Feliciano disappeared into his room, finding the grocery bag filled with paper placards he had made with the Nations in the United Nations printed neatly on each one. Feliciano had been working on them all week, and he was excited to see them put to good use. He hadn't made _all_ the nations, of course, just the more commonly known ones. He had a couple of spare paper placards and a permanent marker, in case anyone requested for one he didn't have.

Feliciano grabbed the plate the cake was on with his other hand, balancing it as he expertly moved through his dorm without dropping the cake. He came to an abrupt halt when he realized the front door was shut.

After several minutes of opening doors, picking up bags, putting down bags, shutting doors, Feliciano finally made it to the library. He, and therefore Alfred, had decided to arrive early and set up the snacks and placards. Feliciano found Alfred munching on pizza and drinking coke by their assigned library table. Feliciano set down the cake and placards on a nearby table and looked around the dark library.

"This place is spooky, huh?" Alfred said, hunching a little closer to the warm pool of light the lamp on the table provided.

"I think it's cozy," Feliciano laughed, dumping the placards on the extra table and lining them up. He grabbed 'America' and threw it at Alfred, and grabbed 'Italy' for himself.

The library at this time of night on a Friday evening was practically deserted. The upper levels were all dark, and only the lower levels had the lamps on each table turned on. The table Feliciano had picked was toward the corner of the library, surrounded by tall bookshelves, so that their tables seemed like an island of light. The smell of food wafted through the bookshelves, and Feliciano hoped it was enough to attract members to the meeting.

Feliciano grabbed a slice of pizza and sat down at the table across from Alfred, setting up his placard in front of him.

"Um, hello?"

Feliciano turned around in his chair, grinning. "Hi, Ludwig! You're the first one to arrive, isn't that funny? There's pizza, or cake, oh hello, who's this?"

"I'm Roderich Edelstein." Said the man to Ludwig's left. He pushed his glasses from the tip of the nose to his bridge, and he looked around, unimpressed. "I thought there would be more people here." His accent was similar to Ludwig's, and Feliciano wondered if they were from the same country.

Feliciano smiled, "Well, you guys are actually five minutes early, but that means you get first pick of the nations! There's also pizza and cake, if you want some, and I know there's a microwave somewhere in here if the pizza is too cold."

"What type of cake?" Roderich asked.

"Chocolate, but I made it myself, and I added a lot of cinnamon, but I think that makes it taste really good." Feliciano gestured toward the food table.

Ludwig and Roderich both headed toward the food table, and Roderich cut a slice of cake before surveying the available nations that he could claim. Ludwig looked down at the placards, hands twitching, before leaning over and beginning to alphabetize them. Then, he and Roderich grabbed their placards and took a seat.

A couple of more people trickled into the library, and Feliciano would greet them all enthusiastically and direct them to the food and placard table. Finally, at seven-fifteen, Feliciano stood up and grinned at the people sitting around him.

Lukas had actually come to the meeting, and was sitting and looking bored. He was Norway, and Feliciano was glad to have a representative for the Nordics, even if Lukas kept texting someone every few minutes. Ludwig had taken Germany, and Roderich Austria. There was a man in a suit who Feliciano didn't know who had taken the UK, and a quiet man with a scarf who had taken Russia. Kiku had taken Japan, naturally, and was sitting to Feliciano's left.

"Hello, everyone!" Feliciano waved. "Thank you all so much for coming to the first Model UN meeting! I'm Feliciano, and I represent Italy, and I also run this club. Why don't we go around and tell everyone our names and the countries we chose? Kiku?" Feliciano sat down.

Kiku stood up and nodded to everyone. "Hello. I'm Honda Kiku, and I chose Japan because it is my home country." He sat down.

"Lukas, Norway, because my Mum's from there." Lukas said, eyes glued to his phone as he introduced himself.

"Yo, everyone!" Alfred stood up and looked around, nodding enthusiastically. "I'm Alfred F. Jones, and I'm the good ol' US of A. Chose it 'cause, well, that's where we all are!" He sat down, grinning at the man in the suit to his left.

"I'm Arthur Kirkland," the man introduced. "Or the UK."

"Your accent rocks," said Alfred. "British people are hot. Do you have a sister?"

"I'm Russia," said the scarfed man quickly, smiling shyly at the people at the table. There was an awkward silence as the table waited for him to continue before they moved on.

"I'm Roderich Edelstein. I chose Austria because it's the pinnacle of classical music, and also has a rich history." Roderich introduced himself while nursing his second piece of cake, Feliciano was pleased to see. He knew cake had been a good idea.

Ludwig stood up and ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it back. "I'm Ludwig Beilschmidt, and I chose Germany." He remained standing as if he was going to say something else, but then shook his head and sat down.

Feliciano had been writing down names and their corresponding countries, and he took a second before standing back up. "Alright, so, because this is our first meeting, we can't really do that much that's," Feliciano paused looking for the word, "Like how it would actually be at the UN. If you could look up a little something on your country for next week, it would add to the realism!"

Feliciano sat back down, and shuffled the few papers he had in front of him. "Alright, so this week's issue—"

"Germany, why did you take my bombs?" Alfred demanded.

Ludwig seemed confused for a moment, before turning to Feliciano. "Is this allowed?"

Feliciano smiled and shrugged. "We can ad-lib."

Alfred was tapping his fingers on the table, giving Ludwig and expectant look. "Those were very powerful bombs, Germany. I want to know why you took them."

Ludwig crossed his arms. "I didn't take your bombs, America."

Alfred threw his hands in the air, shaking his head. "Then who did?"

"Ah, Mr. America, what exactly happened?" Kiku asked, calm voice making Alfred look over at him.

Alfred snapped his fingers as he thought, finally explaining, "Well, they were on their way to India, and the boat stopped to refuel in England, but in the morning, the bombs were gone!"

Ludwig raised an eyebrow, "How do you know it was m—how do you know Germany was involved, then?"

Feliciano nodded. "That's true, America. If anything, England would be the one who took your bombs."

The table's attention pivoted to Arthur, who looked around, confused. "Did you just accuse the United Kingdom of stealing American made bombs?"

Alfred laughed, "So, you confess then!"

Arthur snorted. "No, I most certainly did not just 'confess.' Maybe you _lost_ them, America."

Alfred laughed once again, shaking his head. "I wouldn't lose them. Goodness knows you would need the weapons, there, England. You only have seven arms manufacturing companies."

"Oh? And how many do you have, to be producing and losing bombs like they're pieces of candy? Twenty?"

"Nineteen."

Arthur turned to Feliciano, large eyebrows knitted together. "That's not fair. Not all of us are taking Foreign Affairs." He shot a look at Alfred, "Or having a working knowledge of the manufacturing business in other countries."

Feliciano frowned slightly, nodding in agreement. "Hm… Maybe we shouldn't use statistics 'till next week, when everyone's had a chance to look up more about their country."

Alfred shrugged and stood up, wandering over to the food table and cutting a piece of cake. "Ehh… It's not my fault some of us here aren't taking Foreign Affairs."

Arthur turned and opened his mouth to say something to Alfred, but Feliciano was quicker. "Arthur, what are you majoring in?" He smiled, hoping Alfred would like his cake enough not to antagonize the British man.

Arthur turned his attention back to the table, taking a quick glance around like he had forgotten that anyone besides the annoying blond that is Alfred was listening. He cleared his throat. "I'm getting my degree in Sociology. I want to help kids."

"Oh, like a social worker?" Alfred asked, seating himself down with his slice of cake.

Arthur glanced over to his right, "You could call it that."

"Holy shit, this cake is amazing!" Alfred exclaimed, looking around the table.

Roderich nodded, once. "I agree. Feliciano, you're quite the baker. Is this your own recipe?"

Feliciano nodded, smiling. "Well, I think it's my Grandma's, but I bake with it. I make the frosting, though. Grandma's always ended up tasting like whip cream, and then it would seep into the cake and make it all mushy. I—"

Ludwig stood up and took a deep breath. "While I think this is all very well, are we going to get back on topic? Who took America's bombs? We can't just have these expensive and dangerous weapons disappearing without tracking down the Nation who stole them. Though, it should be said that America should have kept a better eye on them." He sat down, raising an eyebrow at Alfred.

"Hey, woah, it's not like I was like, 'Hey, I'm just gonna leave these boxes of bombs right here. I'm gonna go for a drink, random stranger, watch these for me.' They were on my ship," Alfred said.

Kiku sighed and rested his hands on the table. "That's true; it was probably not Mr. America's fault."

Russia, from his position of smiling happily at the end of the table, finally spoke up. "I took them."

The table fell silent, and all eyes turned toward Russia.

"Dude, Ivan, why'd you take them?" Alfred asked in confusion and slight annoyance, finishing up his piece of cake.

Russia smiled and shrugged. "You forget I'm Russia, Alfred."

Alfred snorted and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

Ludwig turned to Feliciano, deciding that the inane chatter had gone on long enough. "What are we going to discuss next week? I think the people here need to be more prepared with information."

Feliciano blinked then nodded, standing up. "Yeah, Ludwig's right! What do you guys want to discuss next week? Any suggestions?" He looked around the table hopefully.

"Global warming," Lukas finally called, still texting on his phone. "It's messing up Norway's seas and all of its wildlife."

Feliciano clapped his hands together. "Alright, everyone! For next week, if you could look up your country's ideas for Climate Change, as well as background information, that'd be awesome~" Feliciano sat back down, only to jump up a moment later. "And make sure to tell your friends about this club! If you could tell them what we're discussing next week, as well as to get background information, that'd be awesome, too!" He remained standing, eyebrows furrowed as he thought.

Roderich stood. "What's next week's flavor?"

Feliciano tilted his head, confused.

"Of cake," Roderich clarified.

Feliciano's face brightened, "Oh, I was thinking of making a strawberry cake." This earned an approving nod from Roderich as he sat down.

"Is the meeting adjourned…?" Ludwig asked, sounding irritable.

Feliciano nodded, "Oh, yeah! Next week's meeting will be longer, I promise! And remember, bring your friends."

Everyone stood up and began to shuffle out, leaving Feliciano and Alfred to clean up. Both the Italian and the blond were lazy, so they ended up eating the rest of the pizza and cake before finally hauling themselves out of their chairs and cleaning up.

"You think there will be more people next week?" Feliciano asked, leading the way out of the library and swinging the empty pizza boxes he was holding.

"Yeah, of course," Alfred laughed and playfully hit the back of Feliciano's head with the empty Coca Cola liter. "That was fun! I wouldn't be surprised if a whole bunch of people come!"

Feliciano chuckled and swatted the empty liter away. "Yeah, well, we'll just have to scatter the fliers from the rooftops, like you said."

* * *

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	5. Chapter 5

Feliciano bent over his sketch pad, focusing on keeping his pencil still as his brother drove. Every few minutes, Feliciano would glance over at Lovino, making sure the older had his eyes on the road.

"What are you even drawing?" Lovino finally asked, glancing at Feliciano.

Feliciano hid the sketch pad, sticking out his tongue. "Nothing! Keep your eyes on the road and drive straight. I don't want you messing me up." He smiled as he continued to draw, feeling his brother's irritation rolling off of him in waves.

Lovino switched lanes suddenly, causing Feliciano to let out a disappointed sigh when his pencil skidded across the page. Lovino let out a grunt of amusement.

Lovino was actually driving calmly. It was predicted to be a rainy, cold weekend, and most people were staying at home. This left the roadways blissfully clear of traffic and allowed Lovino's road rage to disappear for the moment. Lovino almost looked calm, right hand on the steering wheel and his other arm pressed up against the window, hand supporting his head.

Feliciano shut his sketchbook and threw it on the dashboard, leaning back in his seat. He looked out the window, smiling when he caught sight of a little girl in red rain boots, waiting for it to drizzle as they drove by. He rolled his head to Lovino. "How much longer?"

"Feliciano, I'm not in the mood," Lovino muttered in Italian, turning on his window-wipers as a few raindrops hit the window shield.

"Hey, where have you been?" Feliciano asked, poking his brother in the arm. "I've barely seen you the past few weeks."

Lovino's shoulders tensed, and his left hand joined his right on the steering wheel. "I've been busy, Feliciano. I got a job this year, and my courses certainly haven't gotten any easier." Lovino shifted in his seat. "And we all can't float through life, like you do," he said.

Feliciano laughed, shaking his head. "I didn't say that you weren't busy. But even last year, you used to visit me, and we live two hours away." Lovino glanced over, and Feliciano grinned as he met his eyes. "Hey, when am I going to meet your boyfriend?"

Lovino inhaled sharply, coughing when he ended up snorting. Feliciano waited patiently for Lovino's coughing fit to subside, and for his brother to look over. "I don't have a boyfriend," he snapped, eyebrows furrowing.

Feliciano laughed and attempted to pat Lovino on the head, but his hand was smacked away. "Is that why you've been avoiding me?"

"I haven't been fucking avoiding you!" Lovino said, gripping the steering wheel.

"It's okay, you know, I don't think Grandpa will mind—"

"Feliciano," Lovino cut in, sounding exasperated, "I don't have a boyfriend. He's just some—some _guy_ who hangs around, okay? He's a poor gardener who came to the same fucking plant store as me. He's not—"

"Lovino?"

"_What_?"

"You passed our house."

Lovino cursed and turned around in the middle of the street, giving the middle finger to a car he blocked off. He pulled into their driveway, turning off the car and playing with the keys. He steadily avoided Feliciano's gaze. "Don't say anything to Grandpa, okay? I can't… Deal with his…" He shoved the car door open, "Fuck, let's just get this over with."

Feliciano opened his own door, bouncing out of the car and over toward the front door. Grandpa Julius answered, immediately pulling Feliciano into a hug. He released Feliciano and grinned at his grandsons.

"Boys! It feels like forever since I've seen you," Julius ushered them into the house, closing the doors. The warm smell of cooking food hit Feliciano and he realized how hungry he was. "Feliciano, everything still going well?"

"It's great, Grandpa," Feliciano said happily, looking around the house. It was strange not to see his things strewn about—he was used to his Grandpa ordering him to pick up his clothes, sketchpads, or pencils from the floor or tabletop. The house looked strangely bare without the clutter.

A few more pictures had also been put up. Feliciano wandered over to the ones sitting on the mantel, picking one up and smiling. Feliciano looked to be about four, and was sitting on his Grandpa's lap, captured laughing and waving to the camera. Feliciano had always felt blessed he looked like his Grandpa—the same light brown eyes, same complexion, same facial structure. Julius never passed up an opportunity to compliment his youngest grandson on his looks, winking and nudging Feliciano with his elbow. Sometimes, he would reach out and ruffle Feliciano's hair, telling him for the nth time how it was the same color as his mother's.

Feliciano picked up another picture frame, setting down the first. This one had a photograph of teenaged Lovino, taken by Feliciano for his photography class. Lovino had been looking out the kitchen window instead of doing his homework, pencil poised limply to write. Feliciano had developed it in black and white, but you could tell Lovino's hair was darker than Feliciano's. The two definitely _looked_ related, but Lovino was of a different composition than his Grandfather or Feliciano. A different nose, a different build, all together alien in the household.

Maybe that's why it had become harder for Julius to look at Lovino when as he grew older; Lovino reminded him of men that had long since left their mark on the family even after their departure.

Feliciano set down the picture, aware that Lovino was talking to Julius and that the pair was heading into the kitchen. His eyes flicked over the rest of the childhood photos. Two stuck out: one of Feliciano and Lovino's mother, still in high school, smiling at the camera at the beach, the other of their Grandmother, still young, pregnant, one hand on her hip and trying to look serious as her other hand brandished a spatula.

Feliciano shook his head, turning away from the photographs and hurrying into the kitchen, smiling as he entered. Lovino was helping Julius prepare a soup. Feliciano sat himself at the kitchen island, knowing that Lovino and his Grandpa cooked better when it was only the two of them.

Lovino was making meatballs and talking, looking irritable. "I've been talking to my counselor and trying to narrow down something that sounds interesting. She says that choosing my major and degree for Junior year doesn't really affect anything."

Julius was stirring the broth. "Still, you could have at least chosen _something_," he said, "Feliciano chose something, even if it was—Feli, how _is_ Pre-Law going?" Julius craned his neck to look at Feliciano.

"Good! I started a model UN, and our first meeting was yesterday. It was really fun, even though no one really knew anything about the countries they chose," Feliciano laughed, shaking his head. "My friend Alfred accused this German guy of stealing American bombs, but it turned out Russia had taken them."

Lovino looked up from the meatballs, frowning. "You didn't tell me you started a club."

"Lukas didn't tell you about it? He came to the meeting," Feliciano smiled awkwardly, "And I hung up a bunch of fliers, and I think I told you once or twice."

Lovino tossed a number of meatballs down onto a baking pan, scowling as a couple bounced out of the pan and rolled to the floor. "Lukas is a dick," he muttered.

"Lovino, watch your language," Julius commanded in Italian, turning around to lightly hit the back of Lovino's head.

"He is!" Lovino shot back in Italian, before returning to the household's usual half English, half Italian dialect, "Can I come to the next meeting?"

"I don't see why not. But I don't know where you're going to sit, because my friend Kiku sits next to me, and the German guy sits next to me, too, because I promised I'd save him a seat. Oh, you can bring your Gardener friend, if you want," Feliciano stopped and knew he had said something wrong when Lovino shot him a look both mortified and furious.

Julius, from his new position of checking on the garlic bread, noticed the pause in the conversation and smirked over at Lovino. "Lovino, who's this Gardener friend?"

Lovino stared down at the tray of meatballs, and Feliciano could practically see the gears turning in his brother's mind. Finally, "Uh, yeah, her name's Emma." He washed his hands in the sink, and Feliciano watched worriedly as Lovino ran a frustrated, wet hand over his face. "She's a gardener."

Julius laughed and straightened from the oven. He came over to Lovino and clapped him on the back, smiling. "That's the way, Lovino! You know, I was quite the lady-killer myself in college. Are we going to meet this Emma?"

"You're not," Lovino grumbled, throwing the meatballs in the oven.

Julius pouted. "Oh, come on Lovino. Don't be like that. You can bring her over next weekend, we can have a nice meal—"

"No, I'm not bringing her over." Lovino sat next to Feliciano by the counter.

Julius rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Feliciano, grinning. "What about you, Felici? Do you have any Gardener friends we should know about?"

Feliciano laughed and shook his head. "No, I've been too busy to flirt with girls! There aren't many girls in the political sciences, but there is this guys who has long hair that he keeps tied back, but he doesn't really look like a girl, except for his hair. And he's in my Calculus class."

Feliciano and Julius continued to chat about college, both careful to avoid the topic of Feliciano's future in his major. They moved to the dinner table and had some delicious soup, and Julius even allowed Feliciano and Lovino to have a couple of glasses of wine. Of course, throughout the evening, Lovino remained silent, staring intently at his wine glass. During dessert, Feliciano finally grew too worried and too frustrated by his brother's quiet.

"Lovino, why don't you tell Grandpa about your job?" Feliciano asked.

"He knows about my job," Lovino said, pouring himself another glass of wine.

"I don't," Feliciano smiled, hoping his brother wouldn't allow Feliciano's slip of the tongue to ruin the entire visit.

Lovino sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "I work at a plant shop. It sells flowers and little trees and shit—"

"Language," Julius corrected.

"I don't really do that much, just haul around the pots and bags of mulch. I take care of the common plants that just need some water." Lovino's voice became softer, "But she says that I can start taking care of the more exotic plants soon."

"Can I visit you at work?" Feliciano asked brightly, and Lovino's head snapped up.

"No, you can't," Lovino said quickly, taking a large sip from his wine glass.

"Lovino, let your brother visit you at work," Julius commanded, before returning his attention to Feliciano.

After a light dessert of gelato, everyone retired to their rooms for the night. Julius seemed to have left Feliciano's room untouched. When Feliciano walked into his room, he sneezed at the amount of dust covering his tabletops and dressers. His sketchpads were still scattered around the floor, as well as a pile of clothes that never made it down to the washing machine.

Feliciano rifled through his dressers until he found a tank top before trudging into his bathroom to change and brush his teeth. It was nice to have his own private bathroom back because Alfred tended to leave his razors and shaving cream scattered around the sink, and he never folded his towels.

Feliciano bypassed his bed and shut off his room's light, tiptoeing through the dark hallway until he slipped inside his brother's open door. Lovino's room showed signs of Julius' meddling, as Lovino's various books and old Spanish dictionaries were put on their shelves, and there were no clothes on the ground. Feliciano only knew this because he didn't trip on anything as he walked over to Lovino's bed and collapsed on it.

"Go away."

"Lovino, I didn't _mean_ to mention the Gardener!" Feliciano wiggled underneath the covers.

"I don't fucking care. That doesn't make it okay," Lovino snapped in English, rolling over on his side, away from Feliciano. "And you better have underwear on," he continued it Italian.

"Lovino, please, please don't be angry," Feliciano said quietly, poking Lovino in the back. "I'm sorry I made you lie to Grandpa, really. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to tell."

Silence.

"Why do you have everyone call you Romano?"

Lovino sighed, and Feliciano knew he was running a hand over his face. "Because."

"That was Dad's last name. But Grandpa changed your last name when—"

"Fuck, I know! I know…" Lovino sighed. "It's confusing, okay? Grandpa always says—acts like _I'm_ like Dad so… I guess…"

Feliciano snuggled up to Lovino, patting the elder's hair. "It's okay, Lovino. Sometimes I wish that Grandpa wouldn't compare me to Dad or Mom, either."

Lovino batted away Feliciano's hand, but didn't repeat the action when Feliciano continued to run his hand through his hair. Lovino gradually became less tense, and just when Feliciano thought he was asleep, he asked, "Do you really like Law? You're not just doing it to be like Dad?"

A rare frown crossed Feliciano's face, but his voice came out light, "I've already told you, I honestly do like Law."

"If you say so."

Feliciano rolled away from Lovino, frown still in place.

* * *

**Summer has not been as free as I expected. ;-; If anyone cares, they made wedding soup. **

**But, anyways, thank you to the lovely reviewers! You guys make my world spin round! Thanks **Fruitstogether**, **crystal5207**, **Hilanthus**, and** Alya Spruce**! Those new Followers, you too, rock. :)**

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**Any suggestions, critiques, or general love is always welcome! **


	6. Chapter 6

Ludwig had tried and failed not to grow attached to Berlitz.

Ludwig had been in denial about his feelings for Ber—the dog on the Sunday after the first UN meeting, when the silly thing had run ten miles with him in the morning. Many times during the run, Ludwig would look over and demand in German that Berlitz leave, but he would just bark. By the end of the run, Ludwig was more impressed that Berlitz had kept up than angry.

He couldn't help it, really. That week, when Ludwig saw other classmates making friends, Berlitz would be by the exit of the lecture hall, waiting for Ludwig. When Ludwig saw he had one of the lowest quiz grades compared to the rest of the class, Berlitz would be waiting with a tennis ball he had found. Berlitz didn't think Ludwig was a scary foreigner, too serious and too studious for friends.

By Wednesday, Ludwig had bought a collar for the dog. Well, that makes it sound like it was a simple trip to the store. The entire process, Ludwig was agonizing on whether or not this meant he was attached to the dog—whether he was responsible for Berlitz now. After all, once Ludwig put a collar on Berlitz, didn't that mean that Ludwig owned Berlitz—or at least partially?

That Wednesday night, Ludwig gazed down at Berlitz, collar held in his hand. Berlitz, to his credit, wasn't at all concerned. He was on his back and looking at Ludwig questioningly.

"Once I put this collar on you, things are going to change," Ludwig said in German, eyebrows furrowed. "I'm going to train you, and you're going to be my dog."

Berlitz barked.

Ludwig chuckled and bent down, and Berlitz scrabbled up and licked Ludwig's face. Ludwig put the collar around Berlitz's neck, scratching behind the dog's ears. Whoever abandoned this dog had let a—

"I thought he wasn't your dog."

Ludwig let out a startled shout, losing his balance and falling on his rear. Feliciano was standing over Ludwig, a grin plastered across his face. Ludwig felt a flush spread across his cheeks, and he wondered how long Feliciano had been standing there.

"Uh, he's not," Ludwig answered lowly, standing up and dusting off the back of his pants.

Feliciano laughed and crouched down, patting Berlitz. "Hey, it's okay. I won't tell anyone that he's your dog! I like Berlitz. He comes over to my dorm and I feed him dinner. I don't know why they don't allow dogs, and they should allow Berlitz, because he's the sweetest dog I've ever met."

Ludwig stood awkwardly and nodded his agreement when Feliciano looked up at him.

Feliciano smiled and his gaze fell down to Berlitz. "What did you say to him?"

Ludwig crossed his arms. "It was stupid."

"I used to talk to my cat in Italian," Feliciano replied, and stood back up. "Well, I have to go because it's pretty late, and I have a bunch of morning classes, and I get really grumpy if I don't get enough sleep! Bye, Ludwig." Feliciano waved and started to walk away, humming to himself.

Ludwig watched in slight disbelief as Berlitz followed the auburn haired man.

However, the next morning, Berlitz was waiting for Ludwig's morning run. Ludwig clipped the brand new leash onto Berlitz's collar and set off, pleased when Berlitz fell into step with him.

"You're supposed to be my dog," Ludwig reminded in German.

Berlitz barked.

The rest of the day passed normally, Ludwig walking to and from class with Berlitz. In Foreign Affairs, the Professor assigned a project. Ludwig felt worry settle on his shoulders like a physical weight while he watched Feliciano bounced excitedly in his seat.

In Calculus, a quiz was handed back, and Ludwig was relieved to see he had received a good score. Ludwig left and nodded to Berlitz and began to walk, looking over the quiz. He muttered to Berlitz in German, and was surprised to see the golden retriever had stopped a couple of yards back. Ludwig stopped and looked at Berlitz, who was standing stiffly and staring off into the distance.

Ludwig followed the dog's gaze and was again surprised to see a man leaning against one of the lecture halls, smoking a pipe. He didn't seem like a student in his grass stained clothes and careless disregard to the campus smoking rules. Ludwig watched the man watch Berlitz, and he felt a creeping sense of fear. Ludwig whistled, and Berlitz's head flicked to Ludwig and trotted over to him. The man met Ludwig's eyes.

The man straightened and blew a smoke ring before turning and walking down the sidewalk.

Ludwig wished he had a place to keep Berlitz for his Biology class, but he wasn't sure that keeping an illegal dog with his illegal brother would help his cause much. So, when Biology class rolled around, Ludwig was forced to leave Berlitz by the door, giving him one last pat on the head before walking inside. As soon as class was finished, Ludwig headed outside, and felt his stomach twist when he didn't see the familiar dirty, yellow dog waiting for him.

Ludwig hurried toward his dorm, looking for Berlitz as he walked. It was already getting dark, and Ludwig didn't want to be caught wandering around campus in the middle of the night, so he reluctantly trudged into his dorm room.

Gilbert was mopping the kitchen, little canary perched on his shoulders. Roderich was searching for something in the mail, leaning against the fridge. Gilbert waved greeting as Ludwig walked by. "Hey, Lud. How was Biology? Did you get to the reproductive system yet?" Gilbert laughed, shaking his head.

Ludwig threw his Biology text book on his bed, returning to the kitchen and sighing wearily. Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "They only did the female one, huh?"

Ludwig, despite himself, let out a laugh. "No, I couldn't find my dog. He usually waits for me, but he wasn't there today after class."

Gilbert threw the mop to the ground. "What?! You have a dog? You bitched and moaned about me keeping Gilbird—"

Roderich made a face. "Are you seriously going to call it that?"

"But you're allowed to keep a dog? What is this?" Gilbert said, glaring at Ludwig.

Ludwig sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Oh, I let you keep the bird, didn't I? And he's not really my dog. He just runs with me in the mornings."

"Dogs aren't allowed on campus," Roderich said, still sifting through the mail.

"I know they're not allowed—"

Someone knocked frantically on the door. All three pairs of eyes swung to the door.

"Gilbert, did you invite Antonio over again?" Ludwig asked.

"No, not on the weekdays, not after the last complaint."

Roderich rolled his eyes and threw the mail on the kitchen counter. "Honestly," he switched to English, "you two need to learn how to answer the door when someone knocks on it. Every time, you two stare at it. Gilbert, hide."

"Don't tell me—"

Roderich opened the door, and Gilbert fell to the floor and hid behind the island in the kitchen. "Hello, can I—"

"Is Ludwig here?!" Came a familiar, desperate voice.

Ludwig frowned and went to the door, Roderich standing aside. Feliciano was standing in the hallway, tears dripping down his cheeks as he rung his hands. When he saw Ludwig, he spoke rapidly. "Oh, Ludwig, I'm so sorry! I didn't think that he would get sick and Alfred said it was okay but then he ate it and he started to, to, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to!"

Ludwig blinked, confused and concerned. "What happened?"

A fresh wave of tears spilled from Feliciano's eyes. "It's Berlitz."

Ludwig grabbed Feliciano's shoulders, making the man flinch. "Feliciano," Ludwig spoke calmly, but panic was cold and heavy in his stomach. "I need you to calm down and tell me what happened."

Feliciano shook his head as Ludwig pulled him into the apartment, Roderich closing the door. "I, I, I don't know! I was just feeding him like I always do, I give him scraps sometimes and I always ask Alfred or someone who knows if it's good, but Berlitz ate some and then he started to shake and he fell down and—Ludwig I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt him, I was just giving him dinner."

Ludwig squeezed Feliciano's shoulders and then released him, head reflexively turning around to where Gilbert was crouching. Gilbert, as if he sensed his brother's look, hopped up from behind the counter.

"Berlitz is the dog, Gilbert," Ludwig explained, leading Feliciano over toward the albino.

"I figured." Gilbert rolled his eyes before turning toward Feliciano. "Now, what did you feed to—"

"I didn't think it was bad!" Feliciano interrupted. "It was just bacon and some toast crusts. He started to shake and then he fell down."

Gilbert clicked his tongue and shook his head. "I don't think it was that. Where did you leave him?"

"Alfred brought him, they're outside—"

Ludwig swiftly walked toward the door, opening it and leaving. He marched down stairs and saw Alfred holding Berlitz wrapped in a blanket. When he noticed Ludwig he hurried over, handing Ludwig Berlitz.

"Hope he's okay," Alfred said, nodding.

"Thanks," Ludwig returned, heading back upstairs, cradling Berlitz and looking warily around for other students.

Ludwig opened the dorm room door and walked to the living room, setting down Berlitz carefully. The golden retriever was shivering—or was it twitching—with white foam drying around his mouth. Gilbert appeared next to him, messaging someone on the phone.

Gilbert locked the phone and bent down, stroking Berlitz's side. "Antonio says that one of the other gardeners puts out dog food laced with rat poison," Gilbert muttered. "I'm going to go find something to induce vomiting. You stay here and watch him, okay?" He stood up and glanced over at Feliciano. "And calm him down too, yeah?" He said in German.

Ludwig barely had time to nod his agreement before Gilbert rushed to the door, pulling up the hood of his sweatshirt and dragging Roderich behind him. "Austrian, you're with me. Show me where the Bio labs are."

Suddenly, when the two left, a deafening silence fell in the room. Feliciano still stood in the kitchen, tears finally subsiding. Ludwig sat beside Berlitz, stroking his side. He could feel Feliciano watching him, and when he looked up, they made eye contact. Ludwig looked back down quickly.

"Is he going to be okay?" Feliciano finally asked, with his hands still clenched together.

Ludwig nodded. "Gilbert was going to be a vet. He knows what he's doing."

Feliciano played with his hands for a moment before moving further back into the kitchen. Ludwig looked up; about to tell Feliciano he didn't have to leave, when he returned with a damp cloth. He gestured toward Berlitz with the cloth.

"For the drool."

Feliciano slowly approached, sitting down on the other side of Berlitz. He leaned forward over the dog and began to gently clean away the foam that had crusted. "What's wrong with him?"

Ludwig clenched his teeth, "It was rat poison someone left out. Who does that?"

"I don't know. Maybe it was an accident." Feliciano set aside the cloth and began to play with one of Berlitz's paws. "I'd like to think it was." His voice broke in the middle of the sentence.

Ludwig, desperately trying to avoid more of Feliciano's tears, finally spluttered, "Uh, what are you doing for the project?" He coughed, reiterating, "What do you think you're going to do for the project in Foreign Affairs?"

Feliciano looked up at Ludwig, confused. "Wha—I don't know," he admitted, reaching over to play with Berlitz's ears. "I don't like presenting."

Ludwig was surprised. He thought that if anyone, Feliciano would love public speaking. Personally, Ludwig enjoyed presenting. It was nice feeling in control of the situation, and to have access to all of the information he needed, thoroughly prepared.

"Really?"

Feliciano nodded and looked up, smiling slightly. "Well, people laugh when I present. But I don't know if they just watch me and don't listen."

Ludwig stared at Berlitz. "Why do they laugh?" He asked, surprised the words came from his mouth. He _knew_ why they laughed. Feliciano was one of the happiest people Ludwig had ever seen, but he seemed too ditzy. He seemed like the friendly ice cream man, not a Politician.

"I don't know. No one used to laugh when I would show them sketches or my paintings. I acted the same then as I do now but… Hey, Ludwig, would you laugh if I presented?"

Ludwig kept his eyes lowered and focused on his hands running through Berlitz's fur. "No." And he wouldn't. "Thank you for telling me about Berlitz."

Feliciano smiled, and reached up to scratch under Berlitz's ears. "You're welcome. We only had cats growing up, because my Grandpa didn't like dogs. My brother always wanted a dog though, and he was so angry when he didn't get one for his tenth birthday." He laughed. "My brother, Lovino, he's… Well…"

Ludwig felt the corners of his mouth threaten to lift up. "Yeah, I know how you feel."

Feliciano perked up. "Oh! You have a brother? What's his name? How old is he?" Ludwig closed his eyes briefly in annoyance—it was dumb to mention Gilbert. Feliciano noticed the pause and continued on. "Lovino goes to school here, actually. He's a sophomore, though, and he doesn't hang out with me much, either."

Ludwig grimaced. "You're lucky. My brother is around far too often. He just gets drunk with his friends."

Feliciano crawled toward the front of Berlitz, cradling the dog's head in his lap. "Oh, that doesn't sound so bad. Hey, Ludwig, is your brother anything like you?" He looked up at Ludwig, curiosity evident in the glint from his eyes.

Ludwig thought, before finally responding, "Well, he's neat. He cleans, well also."

Feliciano smiled. "Oh, both me and Lovino are super messy. My Grandpa was always yelling at us. Our house is still messy, and we don't even live there anymore!" Feliciano played with one of Berlitz's ears. "Hey, is that Gilbert guy…"

"Yes, he's an albino," Ludwig answered.

"Oh, that's pretty interesting," Feliciano said brightly. "Lovino did a project once on albinism, for Biology. Is anyone else in his family an albino? Or is it super recessive? Why was he here so late?"

As Ludwig opened his mouth to respond, the door burst open and Gilbert and Roderich returned. Gilbert brandished a brown bottle. Ludwig frowned, squinting across the room. "What is that?"

"The layman's ipecac for dogs!" Gilbert declared, rifling through the drawers in the kitchen.

Ludwig turned to Roderich.

"It's Hydrogen Peroxide," the Austrian explained.

Feliciano frowned. "Isn't that for cleaning cuts?"

Gilbert nodded, pulling out a spoon and bowl. He turned toward the fridge and opened the freezer, pulling out Roderich's birthday cake ice cream. Feliciano stood up and settled on the couch nearby as Gilbert settled in front of Berlitz. He scooped out some ice cream and dumped some Hydrogen Peroxide into the bowl and mixed it around. Berlitz perked up and struggled to sniff the bowl, which Gilbert offered happily.

Once Berlitz had licked the bowl clean, Gilbert scooped the dog up and headed toward the door. "Off to vomit!"

Ludwig sighed and stood up, looking down at Feliciano sprawled on the couch. "Uh, you can stay here, if you want. I have to, Berlitz…" He turned and quickly followed after his brother, praying that neither of them would get caught.

The process of feeding Berlitz Hydrogen Peroxide laced ice cream happened ever couple of hours, each person taking a shift of caring for the dog. Except for Roderich, who slunk into his room and locked the door, the sound of classical music from his radio occasionally drifting through the air. Feliciano fell asleep a couple of hours into the watch, leaving just Gilbert and Ludwig to care for Berlitz.

"Is this kid a friend of yours?" Gilbert asked in German, hitting his head on the wall he was leaning against every few minutes and nursing another cup of coffee.

"He's in a couple of my classes," Ludwig responded, yawning and leaning against the couch. "He knew about Berlitz. And you now, as well."

Gilbert nodded. "He's cute."

Ludwig didn't answer for a moment, and instead reached out to rub Berlitz's head. "He's interesting."

Gilbert grinned. "Oh, no, Ludwig."

Ludwig looked up, annoyed already. "What?"

Gilbert shook his head, clicking his tongue. "This isn't the kid who's better than you at the Law stuff, is he?"

"What has that have to do with anything?" Ludwig snapped.

Gilbert shrugged, still grinning.

"What?" Ludwig asked again, his German becoming harsher as he became angrier.

"What does interesting mean?"

"It _means_—"

"Do you two mind?" Roderich pulled open his door, glaring at the two brothers sitting on the ground. He was wearing what looked like silk pajamas, and his glasses were gone. He put his hands on his hips and tossed his head at Feliciano. "He may sleep like a rock, but I certainly do not."

"Sor_ry_," Gilbert muttered, rolling his eyes.

Roderich shut the door, huffing.

Gilbert stood and stretched, heading toward the bathroom. Ludwig shook his head, still frustrated at his brother. Ludwig craned his neck behind him to see Feliciano.

The man certainly wasn't cute. The Italian was sprawled on his back, mouth open, a small line of drool working its way down his cheek. His brown red hair was a mess, and it looked like it needed a good cut. Ludwig's eyes drifted down further, inspecting the way the fabric of Feliciano's shirt bunched over his skin. He didn't seem like he worked out, but he was thin. His shirt had ridden up, and a small sliver of skin was showing; Ludwig furrowed his eyebrows at the discovery.

Berlitz whined, and Ludwig turned his head sharply back to the dog. His eyebrows remained furrowed for the rest of the night.

* * *

***Collapses*****I'm sorry. I love everyone on here. It's just been hard to get by this one part of this chapter, so I'm completely jammed on this thing. **

**I'm on Tumblr now, and I post Hetalia drabbles as well as extras for this story. *Well, I'm supposed to* I have another little goofy story on there, as well. The link's on my profile. :)**

**As always, comments, suggestions, and critiques are welcome!**


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